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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943386">Into the West</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiona_cat2004/pseuds/fiona_cat2004'>fiona_cat2004</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Father-Daughter Relationship, Goodbyes, Grief/Mourning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:40:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiona_cat2004/pseuds/fiona_cat2004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is content with his family in the Shire, but he knows that one day he will have to follow Frodo into the west. His daughter Elanor refuses to accept it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Into the West</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Samwise Gamgee sat in the garden at Bag End, enjoying the late afternoon sun and waiting for Rosie to announce supper.  He had heard the rumors in Hobbiton that an Elf had been seen walking across the Shire, and so he was not in the least bit surprised when a tall, green-clad figure suddenly appeared at the gate.<br/>	“Come on in,” Sam said.  “I fancied it was you.”<br/>	Opening the gate, Legolas stepped into the well-tended garden and Sam slid over a bit to make room for the Elf on the stone bench.  As always, he envied the graceful way the Fair Folk had of moving.  Legolas dropped elegantly onto the bench and stretched his long legs out in front of him.  Sam could walk as quiet as any Elf, to be sure, but he still felt clumsy as a Dwarf around them.<br/>	“It seems that in the Shire, gossip flies swifter than my arrows,” Legolas said with a smile.  “But tell me, Mayor Samwise, how did you know it was I?”<br/>	Sam stretched a little and said, “Well, Mister Legolas, sir, there are Elves and then there are Elves, if you take my meaning.  Most of the Fair Folk round here are on their way to the Grey Havens, and they pass south of the Shire, through the woods; or north through the King’s lands.  When I heard there was an Elf actually in the Shire, I said to myself, ‘Sam, that’s got to be Legolas’, since you’re the only Elf I know who’d have any business with Hobbits.”<br/>	Legolas laughed, the clear merry laugh of the Elves that always made Sam’s heart feel light.  “Right you are, Sam,” Legolas said.  “I see why you are Mayor.”  He laughed again, and this time Sam joined in, unable to resist.  He’d seen a lot of Elves in his day, at least for a Hobbit, and most of them had been a bit beyond him, so to speak.  Legolas, though;  well, they’d been through the Mines of Moria together and faced Orcs and whatnot.  <br/>	Rosie’s voice rang out across the garden, “Master Samwise!  Supper’s ready, and these young Hobbits are threatening to eat it all up!”<br/>	“On my way, Mistress Rose!” Sam called back, rising a bit stiffly from the bench.  “And lay another place at the table, if you please.”  Turning to Legolas, he said, “You will join us for supper, won’t you, Mister Legolas?  My Rosie’s a fine cook.”  <br/>	“Of course,” said Legolas, standing up as gracefully as he’d sat down.  “I would be the greatest fool in all of Middle-earth if I passed up a chance to sample the pleasures of the famous Bag End larders, which are spoken of with awe as far away as Gondor and the Lonely Mountain!”<br/>	Sam chuckled at that.  “Well,” he said, “I can’t promise you quite the quality of victuals that old Mister Bilbo kept, but we do our best, Rosie and me.”  He led the way along the garden path to the front door.  The hinges groaned a little as he pulled it open, and he made a mental note to have one of the lads oil them up.  Sam was very proud of the old hole, one of the finest dwellings in all the Shire.<br/>	Legolas ducked to fit through the doorway and followed Sam down the hall.  The hobbit held back another chuckle; it was quite a sight to see the proud Elf prince walking all stooped over like an old man.  Still, Legolas kept his dignity, and even made a few very nice and proper comments on the architecture and décor, almost as if he were a fellow hobbit.<br/>	They stepped into the dining room, which was quite the finest room in the house, and had a high ceiling from which hung a large iron chandelier.  Legolas was able to stand up almost straight, the top of his head just brushing the ceiling.  Sam thought of all the times he’d had to get up on a stepstool to wash that ceiling down.  <br/>	The table was laden with food, and surrounded by hungry young Hobbits.  All of Sam’s children were there and as usual, a few friends and relations who just happened to come calling near mealtimes.  Elanor’s young fellow Fastred was chief amongst them, and since his own mother was an excellent cook, no one believed he was at Bag End for the food.  Sam was glad that such fine young hobbit was courting his daughter, but he was also a bit sad at the thought that he would soon lose her.  <br/>	As usual when a group of hobbits gathered around a table, the conversation was nearly as loud as the rattle of the crockery.  Suddenly, though, a startled hush fell over the room as the young ones realized that there was an actual Elf in their midst.  Rosie turned around to see what was the matter, and the plate of fresh butter she held flew right out of her hand to land on the floor at Sam’s feet.<br/>	“Goodness gracious, Samwise!” she said, all a-fluster.  “You could warn a poor Hobbit wife before you surprise her like that.”  <br/>	Sam bent to pick up the plate, which had fortunately landed right side up, so only a little of the butter had slid off onto the tiles.  “Sorry, Rosie dear,” he said.  <br/>	“I apologize as well, Mistress Gamgee,” Legolas added, with a gracious bow.  “I should not have arrived without warning, even if your husband is an old friend.”<br/>	Rosie blushed and fiddled with her apron.  The young folk simply stared with their mouths open, and Sam wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not.  Then Elanor, with a toss of her golden hair, said, “Old friend?  I know who you are!  You’re Legolas, the son of Thranduil, king of the Elves of Mirkwood.  You were in the Fellowship with Dad and rode with the King.”<br/>	Legolas bowed again, this time to Elanor.  “And you must be the fair Elanor Gamgee about whom the Queen has spoken so often and so warmly,” he said.  Fastred’s eyes threatened to pop out of his head, and this time Sam did laugh.<br/>	“All right, then,” he said.  “That’s enough talk for now.  The food’s getting cold – or warm, as the case may be.  Mister Legolas, you sit here by me.”  Sam gestured to a large, almost Man-sized chair that stood in the corner, which Sam insisted on keeping ‘just in case,’ as he said.  Gandalf had sailed away, and for some reason the King wouldn’t set foot in the Shire, nor let any other Big Folk in either, but still Sam held onto the big chair, despite Rosie’s constant attempts to throw it out during spring cleaning.  He gave her a satisfied look as Legolas drew the chair up to the table and sat down.  The table was a bit low for him, of course, but the chair, now – perfect.<br/>	Supper started off a bit slowly but soon enough, platters and dishes were being passed at a quick rate and prodigious amounts of food appeared on (and almost magically disappeared from) the plates.  Sam was astounded that Legolas kept up with them, even young Frodo, who had always had hollow legs, according to Rosie’s Mum.  <br/>	After a half hour had passed, the rate of eating slowed down and the rate of talking began to rise.  Someone called for a story and Elanor, who always had her nose in Mister Bilbo’s and Mister Frodo’s big red books, began the story of how Bilbo and the Dwarves escaped from the dungeons of the Elf King in Mirkwood.  Halfway through, it occurred to Sam that it might not be such a good idea to tell a story that made their guest’s father look a fool.  He glanced over at Legolas, who has a bemused look on his face.<br/>	When Elanor finished the story, to much applause and foot stamping, the Elf simply said, “Strange, that is not quite as I remember it.”  <br/>	“You couldn’t remember it,” said young Merry, always impetuous.  “That happened long, long ago, when old Mister Bilbo was young.  Dad wasn’t even born yet.”<br/>	Legolas laughed.  “That is indeed a very long time ago!” he said.  “But still, I remember it well.  You forget, perhaps, that we Elves are much longer lived than Hobbits.”<br/>	Frodo humphed.  “How old are you, then?” he asked.  <br/>	“That’s not polite, Frodo lad,” Sam said quickly, but Legolas waved his hand.<br/>	“He is simply curious, Sam,” the Elf said, “and he has not had the opportunity to learn the ways of my people as you have.”  Turning to Frodo, he said, “We do not keep such precise count of years as you younger peoples do, for time moves differently for us.  But I will say that not yet thirty centuries have passed since I was born under the eaves of Greenwood the Great.”<br/>	Merry whistled.  “Three thousand years!” he said admiringly.  “And I thought Mister Bilbo lived to a ripe old age!”<br/>	Elanor leaned forward.  “So you were there, at the Battle of the Five Armies?” she asked.  “Did you see the Dragon?”  Her eyes were shining bright, the way they always did when she listened to stories of long ago or far away.<br/>	“I fought in the Battle,” Legolas said, “at my father’s side.  But I did not see Smaug’s final flight.  We arrived at Lake Town too late for that.  I did see him when he arrived at the Lonely Mountain, though.”<br/>	The young Hobbits pelted him with questions about Dragons and Dwarves and golden treasures, until finally Legolas laughed and held up his hands.  “Enough!” he cried.  “If you want to know more, you must make the journey to Erebor yourselves, where the Men of Dale will regale you with songs and stories, and the Dwarves toast you with goblets of gold and chased silver.”<br/>	“Then tell us a story about Elves,” cried Merry.  “You must know lots of them, even more than Elanor.”<br/>	The Hobbits settled back, nibbling at this and that to fill up the corners, while Legolas sang of Nimrodel.  Sam remembered hearing him sing that same song beside the stream in Lothlorien that was named for the unfortunate Elf-maid.  When everyone was rather teary-eyed, Legolas gave them a merry song that set their toes tapping, and so on and on until for a wonder there was no food left on the table, and all the ale and wine were drunk, and the younger ones’ eyes were drooping. <br/>	Sam caught himself starting to nod, and as the Elf ended a long song about the Children of Hurin, he stood up.  “Well, my dears,” Sam said, “we’ve gone and polished off all the food, so I suppose that means bed-time.”<br/>	A chorus of protest rose against him, but Sam stood firm.  “Off to bed, you young folks,” he said.  “Fastred, half an hour, that’s all.”  It was the custom for Fastred and Elanor to retire to the parlour for a time before he left.  Sam was under no illusion about what went on, seeing as how he’d done much the same while courting Rose (though of course Farmer Cotton had been much sterner and more intimidating than Sam was). <br/>	“But we want to hear more stories, Dad!” complained Frodo.  “And we’re not children anymore, you know.”<br/>	“Some of you are,” Sam said, “and the rest act like they are, if you take my meaning, lad.”  <br/>	“And there will be much more time for stories and songs,” added Legolas.  “You did not think I walked all the way from Ithilien to visit for a few brief hours, I hope!”<br/>	That seemed to satisfy them all, and with a minimum of grumbling, the dining room cleared.  Sam sat back in his chair, feeling very comfortable and lazy, but he did want a smoke before bedtime, and Rose’s firmest household rule was that pipes belonged outdoors.  <br/>	“Shall we go out into the garden for a bit, Mister Legolas?” Sam asked.  He checked his pocket to see if his pipeweed pouch was full; it was.  <br/>“If Mistress Gamgee does not need our help with the clearing up,” the Elf said.  <br/>	Rose humphed.  “Go on with you both,” she said with a laugh, shooing them out with her apron.  “You haven’t seen each other in years, and I know my Sam’s dying for a smoke.  I’ll do up the best guest room for you, sir, though I don’t think the bed’s long enough.”<br/>	Now Legolas laughed.  “I thank you, Mistress Gamgee,” he said, “but I will be fine out of doors.  It is good weather, and I will rest better under the mallorn tree at the foot of the Hill than in any bed.”<br/>	Rose looked a bit indignant, so Sam jumped in.  “Elves are different, Rosie dear,” he said.  “They don’t need as much rest, if you understand me.  Why, many’s the time Mister Legolas here sat up on watch the whole night and never the worse for wear that I could tell.”<br/>	Rose seemed satisfied, so Sam gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and headed back outdoors, with Legolas following behind.  As they passed the parlour door, he couldn’t resist taking a peek inside.  It was a rule that the door had to stay open, although Fastred generally pulled it about three quarters shut.  “Half an hour, remember,” Sam said as they went by, and was pleased to hear Fastred’s flustered, “Yes, yes, Mister Gamgee.”<br/>	Sam chuckled as he and Legolas went outside.  “He’s a good lad,” he said, “and if my Elanor decides to have him, I won’t complain.  I do enjoy teasing him, though.”  He went back to the bench he’d occupied before supper, sat back and busied himself filling his pipe.<br/>	“You have a fine family, Sam,” Legolas said, taking a seat on the ground and reaching out to pluck a late rose.  “And a fine house.  Frodo was wise to leave you Bag End, I think.”<br/>	“Ah, well,” Sam said, feeling a bit embarrassed.  “There wasn’t no one left to leave it to, you see.  All the Bagginses are gone now, and I suppose it was best not to let the old hole go to a stranger.”<br/>	The Elf tossed the rose aside and sat quietly, watching the last lingering rays of the sunset fade in the West.  After a time, during which Sam puffed contentedly on his pipe, Legolas said, “Do you ever feel it, Sam?”<br/>	“Feel what, Mister Legolas?” Sam asked.<br/>	“The Sea Longing,” Legolas said wistfully.  “The desire to journey across the Sea, to hear the cries of the gulls, to smell the salt air, to feel the western breezes.”<br/>	Sam knocked the dead ashes out of his pipe.  “Oh, aye,” he said.  “Once in a great while.  Mostly in springtime, around the time the Ring was destroyed, come to think of it.”  He pondered this for a moment, but then pushed the thought aside.  It was too deep for a simple Hobbit.<br/>	Legolas nodded.  “I feel it more and more,” he said.  “When it grows too strong, I set my feet to wandering.  It is why I have strayed so far, into the Shire.  I dearly love the woods of Ithilien, but the River lies so near, and wends its way to the Sea …”  <br/>	Sam filled his pipe again, feeling the need for another smoke to settle himself down.  “I remember the wind off the Sea,” he said dreamily, “when Mister Merry and Mister Pippin and I were seeing them all off.  It was all salt and fish and damp seaweed, and cold.  The birds were wheeling and crying all mournful, and yet cheerful, too, if you take my meaning.  I wanted to go with them, but at the same time I was scared, and just wanted to get home safe to my Rosie and Elanor.  Then the wind caught the sails of the ship and it near broke my heart, Mister Legolas, to see it going away into the West and me still here.”<br/>	“You will follow him some day, Sam,” the Elf said with a far away look in his eyes.  “You bore the Ring and you will sail into the West, just as Frodo and Bilbo did, as all the Ringbearers have done, save you and Cirdan.”<br/>	“And you, Mister Legolas?” Sam asked.  “Will you sail over the Sea?”	Legolas nodded.  “Soon, as my kind reckon time,” he said.  “Perhaps a long time from now as your kind reckons it.  There is still much for me to do here, and even as I feel the Sea Longing tug at my heart, I am not yet ready to forsake the shores of Middle-earth, which I have fought so long to preserve.  As did you, Master Gamgee, and the rest of our Company.”<br/>	They were silent for a while, and Sam puffed on his pipe, lost in thoughts of long ago.  Finally, the embers died and he knocked the ashes out with a sigh.  “Well,” he said, with a long stretch, “I think it’s time to send young Fastred on his way, and make sure everyone’s off to bed.”  He rose from the bench.  “Are you sure you’ll be fine out here, Legolas?  It won’t be no trouble to make up the guest room.”<br/>	“There is no need, Sam,” the Elf said, rising from the ground to tower over him.  “I can rest at ease within doors, and even underground, for I was raised in the caverns of my father’s great Hall, but I am above all a creature of the trees and will rest more surely beside the mallorn under the light of the stars.”<br/>	“Then I’ll say good night, Mister Legolas, sir,” Sam said.  “Breakfast is at seven o’clock sharp, and Second Breakfast is at half past nine, though there’s always a bit of something lying about the kitchen if you get peckish between times.”  With that, Sam made a low bow and left his friend in the garden.  Fastred was on his way out as Sam came in, so Sam bid him good night, locked up the front door and headed for the kitchen in search of Mistress Rose.</p>
<p>	Elanor was on her way to her bedroom when she heard her father say good night to Fastred and come inside alone.  Puzzled, she went to her window and peeked out at the garden.  The moon was only at the half, but there was enough light for her to see Legolas walking slowly down the Hill toward the Party Field.  <br/>Her curiosity got the better of her and, after only a moment’s hesitation, Elanor opened her window and climbed over the sill.  She landed in a bed of lavender, crushing the fragrant stems under her bare feet.  She shook out the hem of her skirt, climbed out of the flower bed and headed down the hill after the Elf.<br/>	By the time she reached the Party Field, she’d lost sight of him.  The mallorn tree stood softly glowing in the pale moonlight and Elanor walked toward it.  She’d always loved this tree, and not just because of all the stories her father had told her about the marvelous forest of Lothlorien.  Something about the smooth silver trunk and delicate gold tinged leaves of the noble tree spoke to her.  She forgot about Legolas and stood under the tree, closing her eyes to listen to the soft rustle of the leaves.<br/>	“It is quite beautiful, isn’t it?”  Elanor jumped a good two feet into the air at the sound of the Elf’s voice, which seemed to come out of nowhere.  Opening her eyes, she saw him sitting near the trunk of the mallorn, perfectly still in the shadows.  A faint gleam of starlight shone in his eyes.<br/>	“I didn’t see you,” she said nervously.  <br/>	“I apologize for startling you,” the Elf said courteously.  “Please, sit down and enjoy the night with me.”<br/>	Elanor gingerly sat down on the soft turf beside him.  At dinner, Legolas had been so merry and light-hearted, but now she sensed something deeper and sadder in him, and it made her rather shy.  In the pale moonlight, his fair hair gleamed softly, and his eyes reflected the stars.  Sometimes the Queen had looked like that, so radiant and fair, yet sorrowful, too.<br/>	“I thought all wise and sober Hobbits were snug in bed by this time,” Legolas said quietly.<br/>	Elanor smiled and relaxed a little.  “Well,” she said, “no one ever said I was particularly wise or sober.”  She fiddled with the hem of her skirt, pulling it down tighter over her bare feet.  It was a warm night, but the grass was damp and cold.  “And even if I try to be, most of the time,” she went on, “I don’t feel like it tonight.  Tonight, I want to be outrageous and … and ‘cracked’, as some folks used to say about Mr. Bilbo and Mr. Frodo.”<br/>	“It is a great honor to be compared to Hobbits like Bilbo and Frodo,” the Elf said, “even though most of your fellows would not know it.  The inhabitants of the Shire would be quite surprised, I think, if they knew exactly what Frodo had done for them.”<br/>	“Well,” said Elanor, feeling a little uncomfortable, “I don’t want to go off on any quests or anything of that sort, but … well … can I tell you something?  A secret, as you might say?”<br/>	Legolas bowed his head.  “Of course.  I will be completely circumspect.”<br/>	Elanor frowned, not quite sure what he meant, but went on anyway.  “It’s this,” she said.  “Fastred … well, you see, Fastred and I … oh, blast!”  She shook her head, frustrated at finding it hard to say the words.<br/>	“He has asked you to wed,” Legolas said simply.<br/>	“Yes,” she said, relieved that it was out in the open.  <br/>	“And how did you reply?”<br/>	“Well, I said yes, of course,” Elanor said.  “It would be foolish not to.  He’s a fine, upstanding Hobbit, with prospects and … and everything a young lass could want in a husband, if she’s smart.”<br/>	“But …” the Elf prompted.<br/>	Elanor sighed.  How could someone she’d just met be so perceptive?  “It’s not so much ‘but’,” she said.  “I do want to marry Fastred, really I do.  I love him.”  She felt herself blush and hoped that Elvish eyesight wasn’t keen enough for Legolas to notice it.  “It’s just that … well, I’m not sure I’m ready to give up … the possibilities.”  She shook her head again.  That wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say.  She went on.  “What I mean is, even though I haven’t had any real adventures, not like Dad and Mr. Frodo and Mr. Pippin and Mr. Merry had, and not that I really want any, it’s the fact that after I marry Fastred I won’t have the chance any more.  Do you see what I mean?”	Legolas nodded.  “I do,” he said.  “You are not the average Hobbit lass, Elanor Gamgee.  You have been handmaiden to the Queen of Arnor and Gondor, the Evenstar herself.  Your father is one of the great heroes of Middle-earth, though he would blush to hear it said.  It is not surprising that the prospect of a being a proper Hobbit wife would give you pause, even though you have great love for Fastred.”<br/>	“So you think I’m making the right choice, saying yes?” she asked.  <br/>	“Only you can know if the choice is right, Elanor,” the Elf said.  “But if you listen to your heart, it will tell you.” <br/>Elanor thought about that, and it made her feel a little better.  “Do you have a wife?” she asked suddenly, not entirely sure why she said it.  <br/>“No,” Legolas said.  “I have never wed.  No Elf-maid ever stole my heart, and now it is too late, for I have given my heart to the Sea.”<br/>Something in the way he spoke brought tears to Elanor’s eyes.  She had heard of the Sea Longing that affected the Elves, and led them to the Grey Havens, to sail away into the West and far from Middle-earth.<br/>“You’ll sail away like the others, won’t you?” she asked quietly.<br/>	“Yes,” he nodded, and although he looked up at the stars, Elanor was sure he was seeing the waves crashing against the shore.  <br/>	“Dad told me about the Grey Havens once,” she said dreamily.  “He said it was one of the saddest but most beautiful places he’d ever seen.  The ships were pearly grey, and carved like swans, and had sails of shimmering white, and the birds wheeled and cried over the bay, to say goodbye to the Ring Bearers.”  She sighed.  “They’re all gone now, and the Third Age is over.  It’s sad, in a way.”<br/>	“They are not all gone, the Ring Bearers,” Legolas said.  “Two remain on these shores, though for how long, no one knows.”<br/>	“That’s right,” Elanor said.  “How silly of me!  Cirdan bore Nenya before he gave it to Gandalf.  I’ve read Mr. Bilbo’s book enough times to know that.  But you said there were two?  Who is the other one?”<br/>	“Your father, of course,” the Elf said.<br/>	“What!?” Elanor exclaimed.  “Dad never bore a Ring.”<br/>	Legolas looked surprised.  “Yes, he did,” he said.  “He bore the One Ring, very briefly, when Frodo had been stung by the monstrous spider Shelob, and taken prisoner by Orcs of Mordor.”<br/>	“No,” Elanor said, chilled to the bone, “you’re wrong.  Dad never carried the One Ring.  He couldn’t have.  He’d have told me.”<br/>	“He did,” Legolas insisted.  “And he was strong enough to give it back to Frodo, which is more than any Man, Elf or even Wizard could do.  It is for this reason, his bearing of the Ring, and his strength of spirit in giving it up in order for it to be destroyed, that he is honored by the wise.  And it is for this reason that he, too, will sail across the Sundering Sea one day.”<br/>	Elanor stood up, suddenly very angry and very afraid.  “You’re wrong,” she cried.  “Dad would never leave the Shire.  He loves it too much.”<br/>	“Frodo loved it more,” Legolas said quietly, “and sacrificed much to save it.  He understood that sometimes one must give up what one loves, for the greater good.  And so he forfeited his chance to grow old in the Shire, which he loved with all his heart.  Your father had more to hold him here than simply love of Middle-earth, but one day he too will heed the call.”<br/>	“No, no!” Elanor declared, stamping her foot and shaking her head fiercely.  “Dad will always be here, until the day he dies, and we bury him beside Mum in the old graveyard.  He’s always been a part of the Shire, and always will be.”<br/>	“He became part of something much larger,” Legolas said.  “We all did.”  He stood up, stretching gracefully to his full height, and suddenly Elanor was frightened of him.  She saw the power and majesty of the Elder Race in him then, and it was terrible to behold.  “It was not easy, Elanor, but for the good of all, we of the Fellowship gave up much that was dear to us.  We lost family and friends, our homes were damaged or destroyed, and our lives changed irrevocably.  But in spite of all that, it was worth it, and we have done what we can to rebuild some of the glory that was lost.  It will all fade, in time, and with it so will we, for we belong to an older time.”<br/>	“Dad doesn’t,” Elanor insisted.  “He’s a Hobbit, not an Elf or a Dwarf or an Ent.  We’re not going anywhere, and we’re not fading away.  The Big Folk stay away, on the King’s orders, and leave us alone.”<br/>	“And how long will that last, Elanor?” the Elf said sadly.  “Elessar is of the blood of Numenor, and will live many years past the span of most Men, but in the end he too will surrender to his fate.  And so will his son, and his after him, and before long Men will no longer desire to honor their younger brethren, and the Shire may no longer be a safe haven.  Hobbits will dwindle and fade, my dear, as surely as my folk will.”<br/>	“No!” sobbed Elanor.  “You’re wrong, you have to be wrong!”  She turned and ran away, as fast as she could, stumbling her way back to Bag End.  Tears blurred her vision but she did not pause to brush them away.  She was angry and frightened and felt very small and alone in the world.  Why couldn’t things just stay the same?  Why did the world have to change?  It wasn’t Legolas’ fault; he’d simply told her the truth, a truth she didn’t want to hear.  Still, she hated the Elf, even as she felt guilty for doing so.  Just before she crawled back through her window, she looked back at the mallorn tree, tall and implacable in the moonlight.  The Elf stood beneath it, still as stone, like a monument of some nobler and long-forgotten time.  <br/>	“Nonsense,” Elanor muttered to herself.  “It’s all nonsense.  Keep your feet on the ground, Elanor Gamgee, and your head out the clouds.  Time to be sensible.”  Tomorrow, Fastred was going to speak to her father, and she could turn her mind to wedding plans, and other Hobbity things.  </p>
<p>	Legolas remained in Hobbiton a fortnight, but he saw very little of Elanor after that first night.  It pained him so see Sam so puzzled at his daughter’s behavior, for the girl was almost rude at times, but it was her place to speak to Sam about the Ring, so Legolas kept silent.  The rest of the Gamgee family were not standoffish, and he enjoyed himself immensely, playing games and singing songs, teaching the boys the use of knife and bow, and the ways of the silent woods.  In all his long years, he had not met a people more fun-loving and simple than the little Hobbits, and it was refreshing to be among them, even though many of the inhabitants of the Shire did give him suspicious looks when he passed by.  <br/>	Sam tried to explain that walking about in the moonlight singing songs to Elbereth wasn’t quite proper behavior to most folks, but Legolas merely laughed.  “Sam, my friend,” he said, “in Ithilien where I dwell, hiding oneself in a hole at night and sucking the fumes of burning pipeweed would not be considered proper.  Although I find our peoples do agree on one thing, and that is the propriety of feeding one’s guests well!”<br/>	It was true that Hobbit fare was not as delicate and fine as Elven food, but there was plenty of it and it was always fresh and well prepared.  On the last evening of his visit, Rose prepared a magnificent spread, covering four tables set out on the lawn, and half the village seemed to have appeared like magic out of the hedges to share in it.  There was singing and dancing and laughing, but Legolas noticed that Elanor did not share in the merriment.  She busied herself setting out food and drink, making sure there were enough clean plates and cups, and keeping the children out of the kitchen.  <br/>	In the morning, Sam rousted the whole family out of bed bright and early to say farewell.  Legolas planned to walk down to Tookland to visit Pippin, then back through Buckland to spend some time with Merry before heading homeward.  <br/>	He bade each Gamgee farewell in turn, coming last of all to Sam.  As he took the Hobbit’s hand, Legolas felt a sudden flash of foresight.  “I shall not see you again on these shores, Samwise Gamgee,” he said softly.  “I bid thee farewell, until we meet again, if such is our fate.”<br/>	Sam shuffled his feet uncomfortably and muttered something that even Legolas’ keen ears could not catch.  When he raised an eyebrow inquisitively, Sam cleared his throat and said, gruffly, “What I mean to say is, I’m sure we’ll see each other again, Mr. Legolas.  You’re just feeling melancholy, is all.”  <br/>	Elanor was watching with a fierce look in her eye, and so Legolas merely smiled and shook Sam’s hand firmly.  “Perhaps you are right, Master Gamgee,” he said.  “At any rate, I must be on my way now.  Namarie.”  He bowed low before them, then turned and walked away down the path.  He did not look back, and never again in Middle-earth did Legolas Greenleaf see Samwise Gamgee.</p>
<p>	Sam pushed the heavy green door shut and leaned against it for a moment.  It was good to shut out all the well meaning neighbors and relatives, but all the same his heart sank at the thought of being all alone in the old hole.  With a sigh, he stepped away from the door and sat down on the settle.  Bag End was silent except for the slow, steady tick of the big clock.  <br/>	As far back as Sam could remember, Bag End had never been this quiet.  It was not the quiet of people not doing anything; it was the still quiet of people who should have been there not being there at all, which was quite another thing.  Sam dropped his face into his hands and tried very hard not to weep.  The children were all grown up and on their own, and this morning he’d buried his dear sweet Rosie, and now he was all alone.<br/>	“Well, now, Samwise,” he muttered to himself after a bit.  “It’s no use sitting on your rump feeling sorry for yourself when there’s work to be done.  And a hard bit of work it is, too.  But you’ve never been one to shirk your duty, no sir, and now it’s time to finish the story, after all these years.”<br/>	Rather stiffly, he rose from the settle and shuffled down the winding hall.  There was a tall cupboard in the study that no one else, not even Rose, had ever been allowed to open.  Sam went to it now and began to pull out the contents and lay them on the table.  A thin, warm cloak of elven grey; a battered old leather pack; a coil of supple silver rope; a small sword and scabbard, hung from a curiously worked belt; and last of all, with great reverence, he laid out a shirt of finest mail, shimmering with a light of its own.<br/>	“If this don’t bring back memories, nothing will,” Sam murmured, running his hand lightly over the cloak, fingering the delicate clasp worked in the shape of a mallorn leaf.  He shook his head as if to clear it, and stood up straight.  “Now then,” he told himself.  “No lollygagging.  We’ve got packing to do.”<br/>	He busied himself with filling up the old pack, dashing about the hole in search of clothing, food and what not.  Now that he’d made up his mind to it, he felt strength and purpose returning to his old bones, and he began to look forward to the journey ahead.  He’d just pulled the cinch tight on the bulging pack when there came a knock at the door. Sam sighed.  He recognized the knock.<br/>	“Hullo, Elanor,” he said.  “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”  Of course, he’d sent word to Elanor and Fastred about Rosie’s passing, but with the young ones and all, he hadn't expected her to reach Hobbiton before tomorrow morning, or late tonight at the earliest.  His hopes of slipping away unnoticed were gone.<br/>	“Hullo, Dad,” Elanor said, shaking off her cloak and throwing her arms around him.  “Why didn’t you wait for me?  For the funeral, I mean?”<br/>	“I don’t know,” Sam said evasively.  “Just wanted to get it over with, I guess.  And you being so far away … It just seemed easier this way.”<br/>	Elanor eyed him shrewdly.  Nothing got past that girl, Sam thought proudly, although at the moment he wished she wasn’t so sharp.  “That’s not it,” she said.  “The Tower Hills aren’t all that far from Hobbiton, and you know it.  What’s going on, Dad?”  She leaned to one side to look past him, and Sam realized he’d left the door to the study open.<br/>	“What’s that?” she asked, slipping past him and heading for the door.  Before Sam could say a word, she was reaching out to touch the mail shirt.  “Is this ..?”<br/>	Sam nodded.  “Aye, it’s Mr. Bilbo’s mithril shirt.”<br/>	Elanor picked it up and the rings chimed softly.  “It’s more beautiful than I imagined,” she whispered.  “After hearing so many stories about it … have you had it in this old cupboard all these years?”  She laid the shirt down carefully and began looking at the other things.  With a start, she stopped in front of the pack, which Sam had sat on the floor, propped against the table leg.  <br/>	“Now, Elanor,” he started to say, but she cut him off, her eyes blazing like Rosie’s did when she saw something not to her liking.<br/>	“What do you think you’re doing, Dad?” she said sternly.   “This looks like a pack.  And a sword, and a mail shirt.  You’re not thinking of taking a journey, are you, Dad?  Down to Gondor, maybe, or Rohan, with Mr. Merry or Mr. Pippin?  You’re too old, Dad, you know you are.  And that’s one of the things I want to talk to you about, one of the reasons I’ve come home.”  Her face softened as she reached out and took his hand.  “I want you to come live with me now, Dad.  Fastred agrees, and the children would love to see you all the time.  Bag End is too big for just one Hobbit, and since you’re not Mayor anymore, there’s no need for you to stay in Hobbiton, is there?”<br/>	“You’re right, Elanor,” Sam said softly.  “There is no need for me to stay in Hobbiton anymore.  But I can’t come to live with you, dear.  I must go somewhere farther than the Tower Hills, farther even than Minas Tirith or … or the Lonely Mountain.”  He squeezed her hand tight and said, quite firmly, “I’m going into the West, lass.  I’m sailing away, to be with Mr. Frodo and the others, with Mr. Bilbo and Gandalf and Galadriel and Elrond.”<br/>	“No!” Elanor cried, throwing his hand away.  “No, you’re not!”  She began to sob.  <br/>	“I am, my dear,” said Sam.  “And no use your trying to stop me.  It’s not a matter of my wanting to go, you see; I have to.  It … it Calls to me, Elanor, the Sea calls to me.  Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I can hardly breathe for longing of it.  But I always had your Mum to turn to, especially when I’d dreamed of … of dark things.”<br/>	“Like the Ring,” Elanor said.<br/>	“Aye, like the Ring,” Sam said in wonder, “but how did you know about it?”<br/>	“Do you remember when the Elf Legolas came to visit all those years ago?” she asked.  “He told me that you had borne the Ring, and one day would sail into the West as was your due as a Ring-bearer.  I didn’t want to believe him, but now it seems I have no choice.”<br/>	“No more you don’t,” Sam admitted.  “I didn’t carry the Ring for long, but you can’t touch something that evil and not be hurt by it.”  He sat down slowly, feeling utterly weary all of a sudden.  “It’s hard to explain it, Elanor,” he went on, “but it’s always been there, in the back of my mind, you might say, this cloud of fear, always hovering and waiting to catch me out.  There’d be nights I’d wake up, frozen with fear, thinking I was back there, in Mordor, and just waiting for the Orcs or the Black Riders to come down on us.  Then I’d realize I weren’t there, I was in Bag End, and your mum was there, and all you kids, and I’d feel safe.  But now I’m alone, and there’s nothing to keep back the fear.  The only way to rid myself of it is to go away, into the West, where the Elves can heal me.”<br/>	“But if you come to live with me and Fastred …” Elanor began.<br/>	Sam shook his head.  “That’s not the only reason I have to go,” he said.  “You see, I would have gone with the rest of them, if it weren’t for your mum.  It hurt me to watch Mr. Frodo go, it hurt me terrible.  He wasn’t just a master, Elanor, nor just a friend.  What we went through together … I hope no one else ever in the whole world has to go through anything that horrid.  Frodo and me, we were like brothers, or more than brothers, if that’s possible.  What I mean to say is, no one else could even begin to understand what happened in Mordor.  The only reason I stayed instead of sailing away is because I loved your mum more than I loved him, but it was hard, Elanor, it was hard.”<br/>	Elanor knelt before him and took his hand, pressing it against her face.  “But Dad,” she said, “we love you, too.  And we don’t want to see you go.”<br/>	Sam sighed.  “Nor do I want to leave you,” he said, “but I don’t think the Elves really want to leave Middle-earth, and I don’t think your mum wanted to leave us neither.  But that’s the way of the world, Elanor dear.  People have to leave.”  <br/>	“At least wait a bit,” she pleaded.  “Take your time.  Come to visit Fastred and me for a bit, say goodbye to the children.  You have to go past the Tower Hills on your way to the Grey Havens anyway, don’t you?”<br/>	Sam couldn’t bear to see her so sad, even though he knew the best thing would be to leave as soon as he could.  “All right,” he agreed.  “A few days won’t make much difference, I suppose.”<br/>	Elanor smiled.  “I’ll stay and help you tidy up the place, and pack some things.  Then we’ll go home together.”<br/>	Sam returned her smile, although his heart sank.  She was going to try to change his mind, and didn’t intend to let him out of her sight for fear he’d slip away, that was clear.</p>
<p>	Elanor stirred the soup, humming softly to herself.  It had been a lovely day, and now it was almost supper time.  On the lawn, the children were playing blind man’s buff with their granddad, and on the whole, Elanor couldn’t have been happier.  It had been a week since Sam had agreed to come home with her, and she was really beginning to think she’d managed to change his mind.  He did enjoy playing with the children, and telling them stories out of Mr. Bilbo’s big red book.<br/>	The children’s cries changed to greetings, and Elanor leaned out the window to see what was going on.  There were two Hobbits at the gate, riding tall ponies and leading a third.  Normally, Elanor would have been glad enough to see Meriadoc Brandybuck, the Master of Buckland, or Peregrin Took, the Thain, but not today, not when they were wearing traveling cloaks of elven grey.<br/>	“Good evening, Master Brandybuck, Master Took,” she said formally as they approached the door, leading their ponies behind them.<br/>	“Now, now, Mistress Fairbairn,” said Meriadoc with a grin.  “Time was you called me Mister Merry, and were happy to see me.”<br/>	“That’s right, Elanor,” said Peregrin.  “I thought we were all friends, practically family, even.  Haven’t I always been Mister Pippin to you?”<br/>	 What rogues those two must have been in their youth, Elanor thought as she failed to supress a smile.   “All right, have it your way, then,” she said.  “Mister Merry, Mister Pippin, come on inside.  You’re just in time for supper.”<br/>	Pippin’s eyes lit up, and Merry grinned broadly.  “Told you so, Pip,” he said.  “Right on the dot, we are.  But first, we’d best put up the ponies.”<br/>	While Merry and Pippin tended to the animals, Elanor took Sam aside.  “What are they doing here?” she asked.  “And don’t say they’ve come to supper, Dad.  They’re dressed for traveling, and not just the road from here to the Shire and back.”<br/>	Sam reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.  “I never promised nothing, Elanor,” he said.  “I told you, I have to go.”<br/>	Elanor shook her head and turned her back on him.  “I don’t want to hear it,” she said.  “We’ll talk about it later.  I have to get supper on the table.”<br/>	It was an odd meal.  Fastred and the children kept up a lively conversation with Merry and Pippin, but Sam was very quiet, and Elanor could hardly bring herself to eat a thing.  Fastred kept glancing her way, but she would not meet his eye.  <br/>	When the children were tucked into bed, Elanor went looking for Sam.  She found him sitting outside in the garden with Merry and Pippin, enjoying a pipe and looking at the stars.  For some reason, he reminded her of the Elf, Legolas, gazing off at something no one else could see.  It made her angry.<br/>	Merry saw her coming, and nudged Pippin in the side.  “Best be getting off to bed,” he said.  “Early start tomorrow.”<br/>	“It’s not that late,” Pippin protested, then caught sight of Elanor.  “Oh … yes, we’d best be turning in.  See you in the morning, Sam.”<br/>	They both nodded at her as they passed, but carefully avoided looking her in the eye.  The smell of their pipe smoke enveloped her and she wanted to cry.  <br/>	“Are you still planning to leave, Dad?” she asked, sitting next to Sam.<br/>	“Yes, I am,” he said, knocking out his pipe.  “I have to – you know that.”<br/>	“No, I don’t,” Elanor lied.  “I know you could stay right here, and be happy.”<br/>	Sam shook his head, and took her hand.  He was old now, but still strong.  “I can’t be happy anymore,” he said dreamily.  “Not really, truly happy.  Not here.  Not in Middle-earth."<br/>	“Then good-bye,” Elanor said, pulling her hand away.  She felt terrible, but maybe if she showed him how upset and angry she was, he’d decide to stay.  “I’ve done my best, but if you’re determined to go, I don’t want anything more to do with you.  I’ll leave a cold breakfast out for you.”<br/>	She rose from the bench and walked into the house, biting her lower lip to hold back the tears.  She wondered if she would ever see her father again.</p>
<p>	Sam stood outside the house, one foot in the stirrup, the other still firmly on the ground.  “Come on, Sam,” Merry said.  “It’s getting late and we’ve a long way to go.”<br/>	“I know, Mister Merry, I know,” Sam said.  Still, he was hoping that Elanor would come out to see him off.  But the door to the house was firmly shut.  <br/>	“She’s just being stubborn and foolish,” Fastred said.  “If you could only wait a day or two …”<br/>	Sam shook his head and swung up into the saddle.  “I can’t put it off any longer, Fastred,” he said.  “I’ve waited too long already.”  Reaching down, he shook Fastred’s hand.  “Take care of her, lad.  And the book.”  He’d left the Red Book to Elanor’s keeping.  He’d have no use for it where he was going.<br/>	“I will, Master Gamgee,” said Fastred.  “I will.”<br/>	With one last glance at the house, Sam turned his pony and followed Merry and Pippin out of the gate and onto the road.  It was a bit chilly, and he sank down into the folds of his cloak, letting the pony make its own way as the road skirted the northern edge of the Tower Hills. <br/>	They jogged on for about two hours, then pulled up for a light meal.  A few hours after that, they stopped for an early luncheon and a smoke, letting the ponies graze.  They had rounded the side of the Hills.  A broad plain stretched westward, covered with grasses and heather and dotted here and there with groves of trees, before the land rose again in the steep slopes of the Blue Mountains.  In the middle of the plain, the River Lune shone silver-grey as it wound down from the north, making its way to the Sea.<br/>	Merry and Pippin had laughed and joked all morning long, but now, as they packed up the remains of the meal and knocked the ashes out of their pipes, they became somber.  <br/>	“Not too many of us Nine left, eh, Merry?” Pippin said quietly.  “Boromir, Gandalf, Frodo, now Sam.  And you and I won’t last too much longer, will we?”<br/>	“Now, Pippin,” Merry said.  “Don’t get maudlin on me.  We’ve got years left, and plenty of adventures ahead of us. We may not be able to follow Frodo, like Sam’s doing, but I daresay we won’t be buried in the Shire.  We’ve got living to do yet, and I don’t intend to die before I’ve seen the Golden Hall in Edoras and the White Tower of Minas Tirith again.”<br/>	Even the ponies were quiet and soft footed as they mounted up and began to ride west.  The road tumbled down from the Hills like a stream, rushing toward the River and the Sea.  As they went along, the ponies quickened their gait, as if they were caught up in the current.  Sam felt that they were going too fast, but there was no going back now.  He was too close to turn away, and he’d never see his Elanor again.  <br/>	They trotted through a thicket of shrubby pines and emerged to find themselves only a few bow shots from the riverbank.  The road turned to the left, to follow the Lune, and the ponies broke into a canter.  <br/>	“The Havens!” Pippin cried out.  “The Grey Havens!”<br/>	Just beyond a point of land, the river broadened into the beginnings of the Bay of Lune, and there, on either bank, stood the shimmering grey towers of Cirdan the Shipwright, and the narrow piers, and the great silver-grey swan-ships straining at their ropes.  Sea birds wheeled overhead, their cries ringing shrill and hard in the air.<br/>	Merry and Pippin reined back their ponies, but Sam let his go on.  The road continued west and south along the riverbank, but a path turned toward the Havens, and standing on it, was a tall Elf clothed all in blue and grey and white, like the foam on the Sea.<br/>	“I have been waiting for you, Master Gamgee,” Cirdan said with a graceful bow.  Sam felt awkward having one of the Fair Folk pay him respect, but then again, he thought, he and Cirdan were both Ring-bearers, weren’t they?<br/>	“And I’ve finally come,” Sam said, sliding off the pony’s back.  <br/>	Merry and Pippin reined up beside him, and bowed low to Cirdan without dismounting.  “Take good care of him, my lord,” Merry said, reaching down to take the reins of Sam’s pony.  “We’ve got him this far, but it’s up to you to get him safe across the Sea.”<br/>	“That I will, Master Brandybuck,” Cirdan said.  “But not just yet.  Another comes to see him off.”<br/>	The Hobbits turned to look behind them, where Cirdan’s gaze rested.  A small puff of dust on the road was coming closer.<br/>	“What is it?” Pippin asked, shading his eyes to see better.<br/>	“A Hobbit on a pony, which she has nearly ridden into the ground,” Cirdan said.  “She appears to be in great haste.”<br/>	Sam hardly dared hope, but soon enough, the cloud of dust proved to be Elanor, riding a very tired and sweaty grey pony.  She pulled up so quickly she almost fell off the back, then jumped down and ran toward Sam.  <br/>	“Dad!” she cried.  “Oh, Dad, I didn’t miss you!  I’m not too late!”  She threw her arms around him and sobbed.<br/>	“There, there, lass,” Sam said, patting her on the back.  “It’s all right.  You got here in time, and anyways, I don’t think Cirdan would have let me leave without waiting for you to get here.  Elves have wonderful eyesight, you know.  He probably saw you leagues away.”<br/>	Elanor stepped back, wiping tears from her eyes.  “I don’t like it,” she said, “you going away, but I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.  And … I think now, seeing the Havens, I understand, a little.”<br/>	“And now the time has come for Master Gamgee to depart,” said Cirdan.  “The ship awaits; her sails are set and the tide has turned.  He must go into the West.”<br/>	Sam nodded, holding back the tears that stung his eyes.  “Goodbye, Merry.  Goodbye, Pippin,” he said, for the first time leaving off the “Mister”.<br/>	“Goodbye, Sam,” said Pippin.  “Give our best to Frodo and Bilbo and Gandalf, will you?”<br/>	“You were the best Mayor Hobbiton ever had,” said Merry.  “We’ll miss you.  Goodbye.”<br/>	“Goodbye, Dad,” Elanor said.  She kissed his hand, then stepped back to stand with the others.  “I’ll think of you every day.”<br/>	“I’ll miss you, my dear,” said Sam.  “But now I have to go.  Goodbye, Elanor.  Goodbye!”<br/>	He turned quickly, before he started to cry, and followed Cirdan up the path toward the Havens.  As he stepped out onto the pier, he felt his heart lift a little.  <br/>	“I must take leave of you now, Ring-bearer,” Cirdan said when they reached the boarding plank.  “It is not yet my time to sail, although it will come soon.  Already the ships are few.”  He gestured at the myriad empty piers, and Sam had a sudden vision of the Havens, bustling and lively, with hundreds of ships bobbing in the river’s swell.  “I will take the last of them all, and there will be an end to the Grey Havens, and the Elves will sail no more.”<br/>	He bowed low and gestured for Sam to board the ship.  With each step, Sam felt his sorrow fade, as he was welcomed aboard by merry Elves.  They took his pack and stowed it safely away, singing songs of the Sea as they went.  The ropes were cast off, and the ship rose on the swell of the tide, and gently slid away from the pier, away from Middle-earth.  Sam walked to the stern and leaned against the rail.  He saw Cirdan on the bank, his hand raised in farewell, and further back, Merry and Pippin and the ponies standing quietly.  Then he saw Elanor run to the end of the pier, waving her hand violently at him.<br/>	“I’ll write it all down in the Red Book, Dad,” she cried.  “How you sailed in glory into the West!”<br/>	Sam waved back, but he was already too far away for her to hear any reply. The wind caught in the sails, and the prow of the ship cut the water like a fish.  The Havens dropped back until they were the merest shimmer of grey against the green and blue of the land behind.  Suddenly, Sam heard a great shout from the Elves.  “The Sea! The Sea!”<br/>	He turned to face the West, and the ship leapt high on the first wave of the Great Sea, and all sorrow left him.  Laughing with joy, Sam cried out, “I’m coming, Mr. Frodo!  I’m coming!”</p>
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